


Nature of the Beasts

by Chriscent



Category: Pitch Black (2000)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:40:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26979715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chriscent/pseuds/Chriscent
Summary: The Hunter Gratzner crashes on M6-117, but maybe there's another passenger.  One we can't see.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~

Groggy from drugs and beatings, he was hauled cargo-style toward another transport ship, this one public. Johns said he couldn't get private transport. Didn't want to spend the money was probably the real reason. Lots of insurance issues for live cargo. Riddick could give a shit less.

More risks on public transport. Never really could tell what some people were up to. Could spell bad for either of them. Wasn't a big surprise when some family member of a victim thought to even the score on a hog-tied criminal. 

Then there were the fans. Riddick had to smirk at the thought that killing could make people like him. He only saw the underside of society when he got loose. Stay low, stay down where they wouldn't want to come lookin'. Mercs had to be good to make it through the hoodlums and street urchins who would cut them down for their boots or a few credits. He didn't know about life in those safe burb rows or bustling city districts, but it had to be screwed up for them to romanticize the reputation of a murderer.

He'd love to meet one of them in the dark and make them re-evaluate their beliefs.

Johns was using it for the publicity too. Only other detail on the vid when they told of an escapee apprehended was the _brave_ and _skilled_ mercenary that accomplished the impossible feat. 

Across the busy tarmac, gasps of fright and shouted obscenities marked their passing. Parents instructed their children to get behind them, and there were some anonymous cheers for one or both of them. Johns did the little speech over and over: "Everything's okay, folks. You're in no danger. Riddick here's bound up good." On and on. The general mayhem got louder when Johns said his name. Johns ate it up.

Onboard and shoved in his coffin-sized cryo-tube. Johns was assuring the captain and crew now, his voice getting that singsong quality that it got when he was _really_ high on himself. 

Didn't get put under right away. Johns was keeping him alert for his own end. He wouldn't care if it humiliated Riddick. He just wanted the _scary_ convict awake and menacing. Made the guarantees of safety easier to accept.

Riddick could wait. Let Johns swagger. It would just increase the chance he'd screw up. No threat here, merc-boy, just subdued by your big gun there. He'd played this game before. He always got his chance, just had to be ready for it.

Johns eventually stopped strutting for the other passengers and left to take care of other things. Riddick was left alone.

It was only seconds till Riddick caught the scent.

He recognized it in a distant sort of way, but only as a memory of smelling it before. He couldn't associate it with anything. He'd never found its source, never looked more than a few steps from where he'd been when he'd first detected it. He couldn't even recall exactly where he'd smelled it before. Prison once, he knew. On the run more than that, assumably. But the exact locations were lost now, as slippery to his mind as the smell itself.

Without it in his nostrils he'd never be able to describe it. Once it was gone, it was gone, even from memory. But it was a scent that was unique, yet unexplainable. It would be there, then gone, as if that one whiff had been meant for him.

Now he sucked it up, trying to place it, trying to identify it. Too much of the drug left in him, not enough of a remembrance. It was fleeting. By the time he breathed out to breathe in again, getting closer to placing that smell, it was gone. He leaned out of his box as far as the restraints would let him.

There. He turned his head, but just as quick, it was gone, just residue of the source. 

Blindfolded, he couldn't see, hadn't heard anything, but that smell… He felt it was from something living. His mind conjured reptiles or felines. Lots of both of them around, but this wasn't exactly that either. 

It aggravated him on a professional level that he could recognize a smell, but _not_ recognize it. So mysterious it had to be important. 

Hard to relax against his restraints after. Couldn't keep from scenting the air, waiting and irritated for it.

Johns came back and closed him in, amusing himself by repeatedly tapping the glass. Keep playing, fucker.

Take off.

Riddick was in and out. He fought off the cryo, but the drugs messed with his cognition. Time faded. With the blindfold there was only darkness, eyes open or closed. The continuous droning of the engines filled his head, the only sound outside himself, and it lulled him. 

Until something changed.

A focus point. The sounds brought him out of wherever he'd been. Not totally awake, but fully fighting the cryo now. No sight, but he could hear. 

Alarms. Gravity. Things falling. Air getting thinner, he could taste it. Crew yelling. The scent of fresh blood in the air, stirring something inside him that made it even easier to focus. More yelling. Not just hysteria now, but communicating. Ship riding rough, not regular, a steady sort of shuddering until the whole ship jolted.

Purge. They were dumping parts of the ship. Back to vibrating, then another jolt, harder, closer. He hadn't seen the size of the ship. How many sections were there? Voices speaking, not yelling. His senses amplified, survival mode.

Voices gone, he could feel the pressure of the section being shut off. They were going to dump the passengers to save themselves. While he had to admire their instincts it really sucked for him.

Alarms louder again, pressure dropping, one voice yelling. The one crewie had saved them, would take the added risk to spare the passengers. Decent, but stupid.

The landing was hard and quick. Sounds of tearing metal, from inside and out. Fresh hot air. The backend of the section ripped open. More tearing metal. Had to be losing tubes. He could feel how the ship wanted to vibrate more, even as it slowed, losing weight.

Hard impact, must've hit something, not just ground.

Freedom. The clang of his chains as they broke free with that last hit. Still restrained, but now loose. Ship still settling. The screams hadn't started yet, if there were survivors. Kick out the door, still blind, but he could disappear.

Hot air, thin, hard to breath. Still shaking the effects of cryo. He struggled to find a place. Blind and bound, bruised and breathless. 

Noises starting now. Shouts, things falling, there were survivors. Hard to tell how many yet, lot of dust and blood in the air.

Silent. He relaxed in his spot, and worked his control. Focusing on individual muscles, and systems. He had to utilize his strength, get the body back. And breathe. He took deep pulls of the thin air, forcing his lungs and blood to adjust. 

The scent.

Riddick's head jerked, his senses still in survival mode focusing. Breathe in, still there. That smell, sharp and spicy, but sweet. No. Not sweet, tangy. So strange, but in a good way.

It was getting stronger. He'd never smelled it so strong. 

There was movement, unseen, just a whisper of sound. Had to be a predator. Whatever it was it knew how to move silent, perfectly silent.

Only the one sound, then nothing, but still that smell stayed. Strong to him, but he knew anyone else would miss it. He breathed deep of it, liking it. It seemed so familiar, but from experience he knew each time in his life that he'd smelled it had been like the first time, like it was new.

He knew he wasn't alone. There was something in here with him. Leave his hiding hole, or stay? More sounds from the passenger compartment above convinced him. It would be tricky to find a new place. Johns could already be looking for him.

Movement, close.

He turned his head and stilled as he felt a breath gust across his face.

Fear was something he was not familiar with. Things happened and he dealt with them, so to be in such a vulnerable position was something he just accepted. The crash hadn't killed him, this new thing surely would.

Whatever it was, it was right there. Its breathing fanned his cheek, slow and warm. The source of the smell, the scent surrounded him.

A touch. He'd been slowly coiling to react. Maybe getting found by Johns wasn't the worst thing.

Fingertips brushed his head near his temples, both sides.

Riddick frowned in confusion. Not human. He knew it without seeing. This thing hovering next to him wasn't a person, but there was also no doubt that he felt the soft contact. Not talons or claws, but fingers.

A tug at his blindfold and he shook his head, dislodging the easy grip.

"Shined," he managed, forming the word around his bit with a voice rough from weeks of silence and dehydration. He had no idea if the thing would understand him, he barely understood himself.

Nothing. It didn't move away, or move at all.

Then there was a pressure against the thick cloth of the blindfold itself. He opened his eyes. He could pick up some light, but with only the material to see it wasn't a whole lot better than keeping them closed. Now there was something to see, so close he could barely focus on it. A blade.

He held his breath as the point of a blade sliced through the material just a quarter inch from his eye. To move would be to stab himself in the eye, but holding still was probably the hardest thing he'd ever done.

Blade gone, his breathing resumed, the first inhale shaky and quick. The tiny slit let him see, like peering through a keyhole, the light not penetrating. He turned his head to finally see the thing, and found nothing. There was nothing there.

He listened, tried to. The sounds of the remaining passengers were growing more organized, more voices joining the mix. And then he heard the soft tread of boots. Johns had come to collect him.

The smell hadn't faded. Wherever the thing had gone it wasn't far.

Riddick looked down from where he hid, waiting for Johns. He could see now, some. It was an advantage he hadn't had just minutes before.

Movement. His vision was limited but he saw something. Not the thing, not even its shadow. He got the impression it was its wake he was seeing, a disturbance left behind it. And the disturbance was moving.

Johns hadn't brought his gun, stupid. But he was still a lethal adversary, and he was about to intercept that movement, whatever it was. Riddick acted.

It was a futile struggle, Johns easily using the baton to beat him down. While he fought with Johns the smell faded away. Whatever it had been, it was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

~~M~~M~~M~~M~~M~~M~~M~~M~~M~~

The one being held prisoner was left to sweat in the new heat. He was a muscular man, controlled by one that was not as impressive. 

A mercenary. He called the bound one a monster, instilling fear in the already upset people. This particular one was new to her, but she'd seen others of these bounty hunters, driven by greed and fear and pride. Judged a monster by a monster was praise by her definition.

In theory she was as stranded as them, but at least she wasn't in chains. She would stay close, for no other reason than that she wanted to. It was her way, to stay hidden. Let them do the work, sweat and bleed for it. She would follow, and they would never know.

The prisoner interested her. She'd made contact, and he'd reciprocated. He had given up his partial freedom in an effort to keep her from being detected. It had been a very long time since she'd interacted with a human. She had to believe that his response was not conventional. 

What would he do? And once free, which she had no doubt that he would accomplish, what would he do? And how would the others deal with it?

She wanted to observe unseen, and unaffecting. Downwind she sat and waited. 

~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~

Hauled out to where they could all see him. Johns said, "To keep an eye on you." Not so much out of worry for him, but Johns would press every angle that put himself in a better position. 

A mixed group of castaways, some kids in the mix and just one of the crew left. From where he was he could hear nearly every word spoken. Some of them were already working to get organized. 

Johns subtly worked the group, and got a few individually. Instilling fear first, of dangers seen and unseen, then searching out weaknesses. In his work, his success and often his survival depended on finding others' weaknesses. He was casual about it, and determined and manipulative. 

As the group began to trample off to salvage the cargo hold, Riddick was already moving to take advantage of the opportunity.

Some pain was a minor cost for his freedom. The bit out for the first time in months, goggles letting him see, though the light was so harsh it hurt even with them. He stayed close, for now, gaining strength.

His absence caused some panic. Johns was pissed. Riddick stayed behind in the cargo hold, in the quiet darkness when they gathered to arm themselves.

~~M~~M~~M~~M~~M~~M~~M~~M~~M~~

A splendid display of survival instincts. She had seen many humans hurt themselves for insignificant things, addiction and fear and anger. Ignorant and irrational. But to suffer for freedom… That was a sacrifice she could respect.

Caution was her first business. Reputedly dangerous, he could be a threat even to her. She followed him carefully, staying downwind and remaining unseen.

Into the separated piece of ship, where the others had gone. She waited, ever cautious. When the others left she entered. A minute of searching to find him, and then she left him, smiling to herself. Dangerous was correct. That strong and that intelligent, he was definitely a threat.

Self-appointed lookout, she climbed out of reach and waited. The fearful survivors found archaic weapons, amusing her. Did they consider those protection?

A unique system. The suns were losing their intensity when a third rose. The plans to go out searching were stalled at the discovery. She went inside to wake the potent one. He would want to be aware of this.

~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~

Riddick had found a place to rest but never reached the point where he was completely unaware. It was a whisper of sound that brought his eyes open, and that now familiar scent that had him slowly lifting his head.

The thing was nearby, but he couldn't detect it. He could only assume, but he got the feeling it had come to make sure he was alert.

Quick assessment of his surroundings. None of the group was inside the cargo hold. He'd have to track them down, see what they were up to. 

Light reflecting from something caught his attention. Tucked into the net on the cargo he was on was a silver pouch. Put there. For him?

Mouth watering, he ripped open the pouch and sucked down its contents. A useful invention. Water-based and thick with electrolytes, vitamins, and glucose, it worked to hydrate and gave a boost of energy. On this planet it was more precious than water itself.

Again he looked around, not quite hating that something could get so close and still hide from him. Something was leaving treats for him, priceless treats. 

He climbed down, and as he hung, ready to drop, he looked back up, then around. Nothing there, but he knew it was. Hard to accept, but he knew it. It was somewhere nearby, watching most likely. It's what he'd do.

"Thanks."

The sound barely left his mouth, and even that was difficult. He was used to only depending on himself and wasn't used to expressing gratitude.

A search party was being sent out, towards the rising of the new sun. Riddick watched the group of six move out, Johns leading the way, then he moved. 

The terrain that looked flat from a distance was rough with rocks and sheer cliffs. Riddick had to wait at times so he wouldn't get ahead of their slow progress. When Johns stopped them to check an unexplained sound, their focus turned to strange formations on the horizon. Riddick was there ahead of them, even with circling around.

A rest in the shade, long minutes before the hoodoo holy kids started stomping through the skeletal remains of the giant creatures. Johns was a little stealthier, pretending to check out the shadowy interiors of the rib cages. Twice the merc passed right by or underneath him.

The holy ones took off, moving ahead in their search. Johns moved in on the pilot, working every angle. Riddick got close, the dark shadow and a few bones hiding him from the merc standing just a meter away. 

Johns was solid. He'd shot up recently, maybe before they'd set off on this little trek. Losing his payday would've worn on his nerves. But talking to the pilot, he had bigger things on his plate. The chick had been strong during the crash. She'd been the one who'd tried to sacrifice them all. But the way she told Johns showed regret. Some just couldn't get past their conscience to do what it took. Johns played the sympathy, putting her at ease, but any secret given was ammo later. Riddick knew if the time came Johns would make her regret sharing.

This close, a blade between the skeleton's ribs. She'd be dead before she knew she was injured, and she'd never know how. The sharp tang of sweat and his blade changed directions. A tiny cut and he was left with a curl of hair as they moved away, never knowing how close she'd come to death.

He caught the strands and smelled. For a second it had reminded him of that other scent, but no. She was human, sweat, fear, alcohol and spent adrenaline leaked from her pores and nothing more.

Only four back at the ship. He could use one of those breathers they'd rigged. There would be a better chance with the untrained three and one kid than following the merc. The air was thin and painful, his lungs still not adjusting to it. Would be good to take a full breath.

The bottle. Alone now, he stopped and finished the swallow of whiskey left. A good burn, even soothing the pain in his chest some. 

Not as careful at the ship. The vain one sat under his little umbrella pretending to keep watch. Riddick passed within a few meters of him undetected. Some guard.

Another survivor stomped through the wreckage and he sampled some more of that pricey booze. Watched them gun down the newcomer, then followed when he took the body. To hide it?

Zeke bought it hard, never had a chance. Riddick didn't see it, but he heard it. Feral cries of excitement when the blood started to spill. He could hear them underground, ripping flesh and cracking bones. Had to be some powerful creatures, and by the sound of the resulting fighting, squabbling for scraps, there were a lot of them.

Free-settler's woman came running. The shots and screams still echoed over the valley.

Stupid. He should have left. Shouldn't have sat there waiting, but those sounds were like a buzz in his head. Another strange thing following this close to the first.

Run now. He didn't expect to get far, but he wasn't going to sit and wait for them. Should've just killed the woman.

Johns stepped out ahead of him and knocked him down. There was a struggle, but it was pathetic. He could barely breathe. The run had spent the oxygen in his system, the candy from earlier gone. Johns went for his goggles, always going for the weakness, and Riddick was done.

He covered and waited, trying to avoid the kicks. Wifey was yelling at him, and her boot caught him in the head before they pulled her off.

Marched back at gunpoint, put deeper in the ship. Not too bad. Got a seat at least.

All of them came through. They were getting used to him, or trusting Johns more. Either way it wasn't good, for them.

Johns wanted them all to assume Big Evil had chomped down eighty kilos of free-settler. The pilot wanted answers, but none of them liked what he had to say.

Kid came around, interesting twist there. 

Everyone had a secret it seemed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet.

~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~

Counting Riddick there had been twelve survivors when the ship fell. One Zeke took out, then Zeke was taken out. That left four men, four kids and two women.

Riddick was left behind as they all ran off to look for Zeke's leftovers. Johns was pissed about the search, arguing that Riddick was too good to leave evidence. That was playing desperate, and would make him look fucking stupid when they found the remains. Riddick doubted they'd find much though, no more than a chunk or two.

A woman walked into the ship where he was being held. She seemed completely relaxed to the point of indifference and he had to give it a moment of thought. Not banged up, so she probably hadn't come from one of the lost cryo tubes. Not a bit of fear either, just open scrutiny without nervousness. 

Then he caught her scent.

"You're the one's been helping me." Strange to say, strange to consider.

This was the thing? How could this slip of a woman have hidden from him? He'd never encountered anything that could get past his five, maybe six heightened senses. But this thing, this _female,_ had. 

"Riddick."

He smiled at the novelty of the occasion, probably not the expected reaction. That first sound of her voice made a shiver pass down his spine. Like a nerve-ending salute to the recognition of something truly dangerous. And all she'd said was his name. Her voice was a soft growl and a whisper as one. The pitch was higher than his own voice, but had a depth that even he couldn't reach. A sound that made him think not of a person, but of time.

And it had come from this smallish woman before him.

"Why'd you help me?" It was a sore spot for him. He'd gratefully taken, benefiting, but not without reflection.

She stayed away from him, nearly against the other wall. No fear, at least not of him.

"Help? I did only what was right."

He huffed, flexing, making the chains rattle, "Law wouldn't say so."

"Your human laws do not concern me. It is wrong for one person to cage another."

That voice. It caused his whole being to shudder, leaving him feeling almost aroused. He had to wonder if his own voice, reputed to be from the grave, or so he'd heard, caused that same effect on people. 

"Who are you?"

She moved closer, her walk fluid, but not sexual. The confident grace of a predator. "I am called Malla, but more importantly I am Chameel."

Riddick grinned. He'd call her a liar if it didn't fit everything that had happened. No wonder he hadn't seen her. If she truly was a chameleon, she'd be able to go virtually invisible. Or so the myths said.

She smiled, coming closer. He'd be able to reach her if not for the chains. "You have heard of my people."

Now he was the one staring at her, "In stories as a kid."

Her smile became distant, "Yes, many tales. Enough to pass the memory of history to legend." She touched his chains, not pulling, but feeling them. This close he could see her eyes, pupils so large they made her eyes look black. They flicked to look at him and he saw a reflection from within. "Fascinating accounts though, yes?" Her smile became pride and resentment, maybe towards humans themselves who would romanticize a race they'd destroyed.

"How much of that shit's true?"

She turned away, her head turning this way and that, her attitude a bored sort of patience. Then she was sinking down before him. Not the normal cross-legged fashion. She was more limber, crossing her ankles and then sitting on them. He figured if she wanted she could spring up pretty quick from the position.

Now he was looking down at her. Even how he was sitting he could swing a boot and hit her, probably do some damage too if he caught her in the head. But she just sat and looked up at him, reminding him of a child's open inquisitiveness.

"My people were thought to have been wiped out. Many went into hiding. A simple task."

Never had he heard that there were survivors of the alien race. Their planet had been discovered by free-settlers who hadn't wanted to share in the profit of all those resources. The native people were simple, no real technologies, and had fallen quick to heavy weaponry. A sad story, but not surprising. The universe churned under the weak, it was the way of man. 

If there were survivors he figured there would be sightings, that sort of thing. But he'd never heard anything. Now, more than a century later, the telling of their planet's fate was thought to be fiction by some.

He didn't hear bitterness in her voice, more just stating a fact. Though she seemed amused by the hiding part.

"How old are you?" Were they secretly reproducing as well? Or was she one of the originals? Which would put her at an unthinkable age.

She crossed her arms, elbows on knees, balancing on her ankles. That position looked uncomfortable even to him, and _he_ was in chains.

"My age is lost. I passed many years on Eumeta before the invasion, but I do not know the sum of before and since."

He was shaking his head, smiling to himself, "You'd have to be like two hundred years."

"That number seems low, but yes, you are correct."

"And you're chameleon?"

No answer, instead she disappeared. He knew where she'd been, so even though she faded he could still see her, or at least a disturbance. She moved and he could only tell where she stood by that wake, like dust moving from her passing.

A voice from nothing, "And a mimic." 

She reappeared, but now took the form of Johns, vest and uniform pants replacing the simple clothes she'd worn. 

"A shape-shifter. That is fucking cool." He couldn't help grinning at her tricks. In the childhood he'd had stories of princes or other fairy tales hadn't been what stirred his fantasies. He'd liked the facts. Science and history, other races, other worlds, other anatomies. Especially accounts of a race of people that were born with such useful skills. He knew a lot about her planet and people, but had never thought he'd get to see one, see its tricks.

"I cannot do the voice though." The voice was hers, coming from an exact replica of the merc, blue eyes and all. It sent that shiver down his spine again, making him smile and shift.

"What's your real form then?"

She changed and it almost made him nauseous to watch the transition. Back to the female form, though now her clothes were different. "This is the form I take most often."

"Yeah, but what is your real form?"

She shook her head, frowning, "It is lost to me."

Didn't know what she was supposed to look like? Identity crisis? "You wearin' real clothes?"

She looked down at herself. "I do not. It is mimic."

"So you're naked?"

"By your definition, yes."

Riddick just watched her. She was fascinating and he knew eventually she would disappear and not reappear. "Are you even female?"

"My people did not differentiate between the sexes. We were in balance with nature, with our world, not created to breed."

He could hear her fondness for a world now ended. "All species reproduce," he reminded, just to see her reaction.

"Ah, but humans excel at it, counting it as their mission to populate the universe." There was disgust in her voice. He was surprised she was as civil as she was, and wondered about her personal story. It could have taken decades of vengeance killings to be so peaceful now.

"What are you doin' here then? You stowaway on ships to hide out and hope to not get screwed?"

She moved closer again, appearing bored with standing before him. "Like you, I have heard stories… of you. My search for you brought me here." Fingers tugged and twisted at the cuffs on his arms, then started testing the slack on the chain.

"You came lookin' for me?" He schooled his reaction, both shocked and flattered in a strange way. A _Chameel_ had sought _him_ out?

Chain released, it rattled loud through the loops it was threaded through as it dropped. Her face turned and was in his, eye to eye, her breath fanning him like before, and he found himself holding his.

"By your reputation, I concluded that you could be a mix breed." Her voice had dropped, whispering to him, the low tone of it felt inside of him at the same time. "I came to end you."

Eyes focused on his, she seemed fascinated by the shine, not a whole unlike her own.

"You want to kill me? Why'd you help me then?"

Hand up, her fingers brushed across his cheek. Touch moving lower, she literally prodded his neck and shoulder, and he sat still for it, enjoying it even.

"Without you there is no escaping this planet. The others will see this soon. They will release you to help them flee. Their survival depends on you alone, as does mine."

Back to his face, she just stared at him, so close their noses were almost touching. Finally she smiled, "My suspicions were wrong. Your strengths are your own skill, not born of a mixing." She stepped back, her head cocking to the side for a second. "Good. I like you. It would have saddened me to kill you."

Riddick just stared at her. She talked about killing him casually, as if it would have been easy for her. While he did wonder how evenly matched they would be, it pissed him off to be referred to as a corpse.

She started to fade, from the feet up. "They come. Enjoy your freedom." Gone almost completely, her face going last. 

Her smile was all that was left, the Cheshire cat trick, and only fully disappeared when Johns came stomping down the steps.

Head down, he watched her disturbance move away until it was lost in the shadows.


	4. Chapter 4

~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~

Out of chains and within the group, he got a wide berth, practically his own time zone. Johns stayed within sight as they loaded the sled.

Riddick picked up parts of their convo's, hearing the pilot had gone in the same hole that had gotten Zeke. She'd had to climb out one of the spires to escape the critters. Fear and shock were taking hold on them all, but he figured all that alcohol was helping. The dark woman, Zeke's fling, gave him hard looks when she thought he wasn't looking. Still pissed or guilt? 

Traded his chains of imprisonment for chains of a yoke. Riddick took it gladly just for the chance to be walking, moving. He followed the rest of the group, laboring to pull the load and to just breathe.

The encounter with Malla was fresh in his mind. He'd looked around for some sign of her, but he figured after a hundred years of hiding she would be good enough to hide from even him. No way to tell anyone. Never even considered it. They hadn't believed he'd heard something in the ground when Zeke got torn up, no way they'd believe he'd met a creature from ancient legends.

Her last words were weighing on him, that all their lives, including hers, would depend on him. He didn't know what the fuck she was talking about, but right now it was a damn hard thing to consider. People didn't depend on him. That sounded damn close to deserving respect or even doing something noble. Noble was not in his job description. 

Given a choice he knew he'd walk away, at least from most of them. But Malla... As a killer, he might be considered a legend in his time, but it was a hell of a far way from what she was. Would he sacrifice her for himself? He didn't like the way that question made him feel. 

The skiff needed some serious help if it was ever going to get through the atmosphere. Johns wouldn't let him near it, so he got busy seeing what else the settlement had to offer.

For one, it had plenty of places to hide a mischievous Chameel. He figured she'd tag along, their escape was hers. But what did hiding Chameels do? Haunt? That made him grin. Had every supernatural event over the past century been a bored Chameel playing tricks? 

She appeared once as just a pair of yellow eyes staring through a window and was gone as quick as he'd seen her. In the sun, her irises had been just thin slits, closed vertically like a cat's.

He looked over the settlement. Clues left behind had him figuring the last residents had met the same fate Zeke had. Just wasn't sure what had led to their end.

Johns called him back like a dog. He'd bide his time. Merc was stupid for ever letting him out of the chains.

That kid had him smiling to himself. Jack. She was pissing them all off with her own form of mimic, and Riddick just couldn't deny that he liked it some, maybe just for the expression Johns got.

Sipping dirty water from crystal. He distanced himself. Easier to observe from the edge. A soft sound had him making a pretense of cleaning his goggles. Malla was so close he could touch her, and completely visible. She smiled at him from behind the wall where none of them could see. Goggles back on, he had to ignore her, even when she disappeared and moved behind him. Hard for him to do.

He let them all know, including Malla, what he thought had happened. The boy screaming ended the party. Riddick was slow to follow. He had no intention of risking his safety for some stupid kid. It was called natural selection and he couldn't bring himself to fuck with nature.

"I like the boy."

Riddick watched Malla appear, working her way through the water left in all the glasses. "She's a girl."

She studied him, taking her time on the last glass. "Truly? The shaved one?" She smiled, "How strange you humans are."

He watched her, liking her laid-back attitude. The others were all freaked out, half of them working angles to cover their asses. Malla was content to stand back and watch. He didn't envy that, but it made him see how she'd survived for so long.

"She's a smart kid. Stupid to imitate Johns or Paris. Hoodoo man already has his clones."

She set the last glass down, empty and came toward him. "Do you like that she imitates you?" As she asked the question she did the same, reforming into a smaller version of him.

Riddick laughed abruptly and couldn't keep from reaching out to her. She'd replicated him exactly, but her mass kept her from equaling his size. 

Her smile faded abruptly at the first contact to her head. 

He dropped his hand, unsure of the protocol. His fingers weren't burning or anything from it at least.

"You would touch me?"

Rather than the anger or disgust he'd expected, her tone was curious, sad even. She slowly turned back to her female form, which made it less awkward. Looking at himself was just damn weird. 

"You touched me," he reminded her. How fucking uncomfortable. This was why he only ever had paid relationships.

She smiled up at him, making him want to back out of the building where he knew she wouldn't follow.

"Thank you," she whispered, though her voice always sounded like a sort of whisper. Then she disappeared and he couldn't even see where she had been.

They were carrying out the body when he walked up to the coring room. He'd called that one, huh? Inside there was even more evidence confirming his theory. A flare down the hole, and they all saw it. Looked like the whole population was down there in bony pieces.

The free-settler was feeling guilty, gave him her breather. He took it, but it felt weird to. A gesture of kindness where he came from was to kill you quick rather than leave you down to bleed.

Johns wasn't cool with it either. He had to see it as Big Evil taking a step up the social ladder, and around here that was the food chain too.

The pilot was checking around, playing detective. Riddick just watched and did his own examining. Maybe she'd figure something out.

He looked up in the rafters and had to do a double take. Weren't many things in this universe that could surprise him, but Malla was obviously one of those things. Somehow she'd climbed up into the dome of shutters and was sitting up there. The thing that got him though was that she'd found or managed to catch one of the things that had been flying around in here. And she was eating it. Dark fluid ran from her mouth as she tore a piece out of the bat-looking creature.

The pilot said something and Riddick checked to see if anyone had noticed Malla sitting up there. When he looked back she was gone.

He nodded slowly to himself. That was hardcore. Chomping into some alien species like it was a prepared meal. And blue blood. That had almost made him sick, and that was saying something.

Johns was trying to make them all calm down, 'specially the pilot. Controlling her would go a good ways to controlling the rest, but she looked fed up with all his words and no real action.

When Fry walked out like she had a purpose, Riddick was curious enough to follow. Had she found something?

She had. An eclipse. Under the circumstances that was just damn funny. He couldn't resist reminding them all that he would have a serious advantage if all the lights went out.

The scramble was on. The sandcat still wasn't running, and now the holy guy and kids got to work on the wings of the skiff. Riddick headed off to see if he could find Malla. He didn't know if she knew something of the celestial occurrence, but he wanted to make sure she knew that when it happened it would be fast.


	5. Chapter 5

~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~

Sloppy. 

Riddick spotted a few drops of blue soaking into the dust outside a long low bunkhouse. When he went in he didn't see anything at first. But as he looked, drops of the fluid hit the floor and he smiled.

Malla appeared, a little messier than she'd been before.

"What the fuck is that thing?"

She was in the process of pulling a wing apart, searching for any meat on the bony looking creature. He doubted what he was seeing resembled its normal appearance.

Obviously it was picked clean cuz she tossed it, making a wet crunching sound. "Tasty?"

When she came toward him he could only watch. She painted a grisly picture, the blue blood coated the lower half of her face and dripped onto her clothes. It was disgusting and it was survival at its most simple.

Her hands on his arms pushed him back, directing him to sit, the thin mattress sending up eddies of dust in the sunlight. And she was right there. In his face.

He could smell the thing on her. Like something from the deep, dirt and mold with a hint of rot. It was almost nauseating. And then her mouth was on his.

If the smell was strong the taste was stronger. Thick and rich in his mouth, but it was hard to tell how much was her. A sigh through her nose, fanning his face and he reached for her, sudden lust twisting his insides.

She came willingly, straddling his lap, her head tilting back as he licked her chin, taking in that essence. It was overpowering, the act so natural and vital, so animalistic. 

They were both growling, hands still just holding, mouths sharing a strange treat.

It wasn't clear which one of them stopped first, but suddenly they were just sitting there, panting. Riddick shifted her on him, growling from the pressure against his swollen cock.

"We don't have time for this," he told her, wishing they did.

She was gripping his shoulders, working with him when he rubbed himself against her. "There should not be a _this._ You are human." She sounded aggravated that he'd turned out to be human. 

Up and separate, Riddick used a dusty rag to wipe his face and anywhere she'd touched, removing blue streaks she'd left behind. She was wiping herself too, but seemed to be looking at him more than herself. When he spent a few extra seconds wiping at a stain on his shirt she stepped up to him and used her mouth, sucking the lighter mark from the cloth.

"Thought I was the only one with a taste for blood."

She shivered, eyes going half closed with a smile, "I love it." She started licking her fingers as if to prove the point. "I used to kill to feed, but blood was all I wanted. Figured I could just bleed them and let them live." She smiled, teeth grotesquely discolored in a fashion he knew he'd worn, "They will make more."

That nearly painful clenching in his groin as his body hardened in reaction to her. He'd never been around a woman who'd turned him on. They were an end to his need, a convenience, and that was it. The rest of what they were was dangerous to him. Soft and weak, most with bad attitudes and greedy natures. Malla was the opposite of all those things and it shocked him how aroused he was.

"Later."

He left her, needing to go see what Johns was up to. It wasn't until he'd gotten to the clearing around the skiff that he realized he hadn't told her of the eclipse. That was fucking stupid. From the moment he'd seen her in there he'd only been thinking of her, and his own needs. It made him feel stupid, but it felt good too. Is that what lust was? Able to clear a person's mind of sensible thought?

He stopped, watching as Fry and Johns passed within feet of him and went into the skiff. They'd been arguing and it would pay to find out why. 

Malla's scent was on him, he could smell it as his skin and shirt heated in the sun. He didn't mind it, but it was a damn unique smell, and Johns might just be perceptive enough to question it.

His blade and some fragrant grease would solve both problems. Cover up her smell, and when he took a spot under the shadow of the skiff's wing he could hear them inside clearly enough.

In the end he didn't learn anything he hadn't already known. Johns tried to scare her into doing what he wanted. He'd never believed Johns would honor the 'figured you could've died in the crash', so hearing that truth didn't change anything. 

Johns was desperate for the high. Riddick knew he'd go hide out somewhere for it and gave a brief thought for Malla, but she'd been hiding from humans for long enough not to be caught unawares by one strung out merc.

And it gave Riddick the opportunity to see what the pilot would be worth.

She held onto her fear and a perilous loyalty to Johns. He'd seen her reaction before. Her guilt and shame at her own lack of remorse made her a risky player in the game. At any point she could change course, deciding to sacrifice the others for herself, or even the opposite. But it was too soon to tell. 

With nothing to lose, he had only to gain, so he let her know who she'd laid her allegiance with. 

Back to find Malla. No clues left behind, so he found a secluded place and waited. She left him alone for only a minute.

"There's an eclipse coming." He barely waited for her to form herself, not wanting to get horny and forget again.

She nimbled up a container that was as tall as her and sat. "They will need you."

He couldn't see the circumstances, but he'd figured it too. Would probably be those damn cells and Johns not wanting to trust him with a functional ship. Waiting till the last minute usually meant waiting till it was too late. He was playing jeopardy with all their lives, and for what? When would be a good time to say 'I didn't mean it. Put these chains on'?

"What about you?" It was assuming to ask, but she had said it. And now, after their encounter earlier, he found his stand had changed. There was something else here, something more than making it off this planet alive and free.

"I will follow," she told him, appearing unconcerned. "If there is darkness it will hide me even better."

"Maybe you should stay here. You might not be able to hide from these things."

"I have never found a creature I could not hide from.” His argument hadn’t worked at all, instead convincing her _not_ to stay behind. It was curiosity and a challenge to do it now.

She hopped down, landing easily. "You lead, Human Riddick, and I will follow, closer than you'll know."

"If it gets too bad will you appear for them?"

"We will see." She looked up, her head tilting thoughtfully, her voice neutral. "The light is fading. It has begun."

The same container she'd climbed, he hopped up and then was on the roof. She was right, it had started. The two rings of the sister planet were visible on the horizon, just below the orange and yellow suns, that looked tiny above. As he watched the edge of the rising planet darkened the ripples of the sunset. It was coming up fast.

Below him the others had seen. All but Johns were climbing into the sandcat, and then they were driving through the settlement.

Riddick spared a look at Malla, but she was already gone.

As the sandcat passed he jumped in.


	6. Chapter 6

_**~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~** _

There wasn’t anything Riddick could do to help Malla now. He doubted she could keep up with the sandcat. Better if she was left behind in the settlement anyway.

That kid sitting across from him pulled the makeshift goggles down, daring him. Brave kid, or just really stupid. When he didn't pull a shiv on her she seemed to gain some confidence, but her challenge had almost made them both lose their heads. He pointed and she saw, ducking just in time to avoid the low bridge.

Coming out of the canyon, there was only open ground to cross to get to the crash site. A planet was rising over the horizon on an intersecting course with the pair of suns. Everyone stared, it was hard not to. Riddick looked the other way, and saw something even more interesting.

It had to be Malla. She'd taken the shape of a lion, the fur of the animal matching the terrain perfectly. She ran full out, keeping pace with the sandcat. A dangerous game. She stayed visible for nearly thirty seconds before disappearing. But the others hadn't noticed, too freaked by the coming eclipse.

Not enough time. Got the cells to the sandcat and then just stood and waited for the end of the day. The first shadows of the coming night caused a riot of the clicking, vibrating cries. Something that looked like smoke, they rose from the spires, darkening the sky.

The free-settler, Shazza, got nervous and paid for it. Hard to tell what to do with that sort of confrontation, it could have been any of them.

Down to eight, not including Malla. 

Terror was a good motivator to get over anxiety. In the last light of the day the pilot stood beside him, wanting to stand equal with him, the hope in her almost visible.

Too much damage to the cargo hold, the creatures were getting in. Through the units, looking for a safe one. 

Riddick got his first good look at one of the big ones. Impressive killers. The vibration of sound coming from them had to be their vision. He could feel it, like prickles on his skin. 

Lost another holy kid in the hold. Kid had run, the spill of blood exciting the rest. He moved too, hiding was worthless. Towards the light, and that big gun. Come on, Johns, be useful. Merc actually brought it down, and didn't shoot anything else in the panic.

Down to seven.

Merc was losing his cool. The pilot was pushing him, angry at ever having trusted him? Either way, she'd lost respect for the gun-toter. _That_ Riddick would take credit for. He almost let them go at it. He wasn't typically the peacekeeper. But the kid was in the way, and Johns wouldn't hesitate to shoot them both. He let it escalate and then stepped in, putting the pressure on Johns. The merc was losing more than just the pilot's respect.

He was starting to feel good about this. Johns was making it easy, just by being himself. Merc didn't like how easily they would follow the alleged monster. But they didn't have a choice now.

Pilot was the one to make sure they all saw it. She was really hoping to make up ground, needing to have faith in something. 

Out into the night. No Malla to be seen. With the way these new monsters saw things he wasn't sure if her old disguises would work.

Riddick stepped up, and forced the rest of them down. They needed him and they knew it. He took charge, telling them what to do. And Johns simmered. He wanted to hide, like always, where there was the least risk to himself. How had a coward become a merc anyway? Or was it the job and the drugs that had made him one?

He overheard their little chat. Pilot trying to get back at Johns some, Johns still up to his old tricks.

Back out, now with more light. It was a joke. They were like a traveling buffet. The things trailed after, butting axe-heads and testing how close they could get. From inside the light the group couldn't see anything more than ghosts of movement. Good thing, or they'd be screaming. 

No sign of Malla, just more monsters. They were stacking up out there, and getting impatient. Blood in the air. She was hiding it good, but the kid was leaking. The beasts were thickest back there, and now were swooping in. Starvation was a helluva motivator.

One of the creatures took a swipe and the vain one, Paris, panicked. Stupid. Riddick crouched, ready, and watched the proceedings. 

The lights went out and there was a shocked silence from both species. Another swipe at Paris and then they set on him. Johns was the one to think first within the group, or at least the one with the means. A flare and they lit their candles off it.

Could they hear the Paris-feast? The kid, Jack, stood at the edge of the light and looked out, like she could imagine it. She couldn't. Pairs took pieces different ways, trying to hoard, but in the end it was a fight till the last scrap.

Down to six.

Pilot trying to be brave. They all got scared quick when they learned of his side-track. He couldn't have timed that much better, though it hadn't really paid off. Told himself he was not looking for a sign of Malla, just wanted to buy some time, see if the conditions ahead improved. They hadn't, and she was still on her own.

Pressure snapped the bravado. Johns showed his true self and stopped trying to play nice. Riddick didn't have to wait long for the merc to come to him to make a deal. Stupid. There was never any deal.

The fight was good. Merc with the big gun got a few shots off at shadows. Riddick liked seeing Johns realize his fate, and that there was no way to bullshit his way out of it.

While they munched on Johns Riddick heard a different sort of sound somewhere out in the darkness. He looked, maybe to find Malla, but found nothing. 

Down to five.

Take the cells or go find them?

It was the kid that made him go back. He was already out here anyway, right? Just four of them running scared, they were easy to find. 

Losing Johns hadn't changed much, except open their eyes to the truth. No second hope now. They were all on him.

It was becoming a matter of pride to him. Get them back and just see how many pieces were left. He had to kill one of the beasts up close. A good fight, but the planet wasn't done with them.

The rain started and they were down to just four. No way to watch his back and theirs. It was time to choose. Only _he_ could move the cells alone. None of them would make it without him.

Stash them and move the cells. He could come back if it wasn't too risky. No way it wouldn't be risky though.

He lit up the skiff and waited. Pre-flight and no Malla. She must've bought it out there.

Pilot appeared instead. He'd known she could go either way, and her resolve was weak. He almost convinced her to give it up, but instead she convinced him. And it was the right thing to do. Malla had done that for him, done what she'd thought was right. Maybe if he went back out they could find her too.

Fucking conscience! Always go with the instinct.

The kid and holy man were still in one piece. Holy said some shit about God. Riddick had left God out a long time ago. That fucker didn't play fair.

Back to the settlement, he got separated and ganged up on.

Fry came back for him. So stupid. Her trying to make amends got her killed. He hadn't worked out the scenarios of her living or dying, but somewhere along the way he'd just assumed that she'd make it. And she'd come back for him. It was a screwed up irony, but he could have told her that's how it went. Risk meant loss, period.

Down to three, but still no Malla.

Back to the skiff. He barely made it. Fuckers were nose-open to his blood. Kid and holy man were waiting, looking damn pleased to see anyone show up. They didn't seem suspicious, in fact, it was just the opposite. The kid was eager and holy appeared sincerely grateful.

He sat at the top of the ramp for a few minutes, reviewing his options. Malla's chances of survival now were slim. If she hadn't made it here in the time since he'd lit up the skiff, then she probably wasn't going to. Looking for her was so ridiculous he had to smile at the idea. If she didn't want to be found she wouldn't be.

The kid brought him a first aid kit. Some of the binding agent on his leg hurt like hell, but stopped the bleeding.

It was time to make a decision, and he really didn't see it as much of a decision.


	7. Chapter 7

~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~

The circle of light from the skiff was surrounded by a circle of beasts. They appeared to know that the skiff was different from the flickering lights the survivors had carried. There would be no knocking these out, but that didn't mean they wouldn't wait nearby, just in case.

Riddick hit the close switch on the ramp before he was all the way to his feet. Didn't feel right to wait around when everything up to this had been to get off.

"Riddick." The kid's eyes were huge, but she was looking past him.

Through the narrowing gap he saw Malla finish materializing just inside the circle of light. She was soaked, but the rain hadn't washed away all the blood. Darker than human, but it wasn't blue.

He hit the button to drop the ramp and looked at the other two.

"How?" was all the kid managed, her eyes still too big for her head.

When Riddick looked at the holy man he only nodded.

Malla struggled to climb the ramp, and in the end took the hand he held out with her uninjured arm and let him pull her to him. Her expression was pained, but she smiled her thanks.

"Bout fucking time," he growled at her, enjoying the novelty of the relief he was feeling. They'd been damn close to leaving her behind, and fate didn't smile often.

Riddick helped her sit, but it was holy man who strapped her in. The kid came with the kit. "Can she use this?"

Good question. How much had the kid seen? Did she know Malla wasn't human?

The kid didn't wait, but held the coagulant out for Malla to see. Neither of them seemed to care that Malla had yet to speak. When Malla nodded, the kid tore open the applicator and dumped it on the mangled wound to the front of her shoulder.

Malla hissed in pain, her eyes closing as her whole body tensed, but she didn't move, or speak. 

Riddick smiled. Damn, she was hardcore.

The wound wasn't the slicing wounds he'd seen the beasts give, like the one he had. It was more ragged, and didn't look as vital. She'd live if she hadn't lost too much blood, but they'd have to clean it before it tried to heal further.

He went to strap in, signaling the other two to. A lights out, to draw the monsters and then he blew through them, smiling to himself at the noise their bodies made hitting the hull.

The gauges showed the skiff got hot exiting the atmosphere, but it made it. A few minutes to find his bearings and he set the nav system. A few hours to get to the Sol-Trek lanes, then it would be just a matter of time. The skiff was a piece of shit, and that was being polite. Screens flickered, threatening to die. Common sense told him that if the electronics were that bad, the core wiring couldn't be in any better condition. 

It was only a matter of time before they were dead in the water.

He did what he could to keep the life-support up, but it would probably take manual labor to ensure it stayed functional. He'd wait until it was the only alternative before risking making it worse.

The kid sat with him. She was thinking at least. Reports of his capture would be widespread by now. News of the crash would only draw them in faster. Mercs would be their best bet for getting picked up. 

Rest. They all needed it. Conserve energy for surviving a near freezing in space, or for the coming encounter with whoever rescued them.

Malla looked like she was fully out. What was her natural state? Would she accidentally go invisible while she slept? He smiled to think of it.

The holy man's beads slowed and finally stopped, soft snoring replacing it. The kid was out too, looking content sleeping beside him. Go figure.

Riddick tried. He needed sleep, and couldn't think of a safer place to get it. But he would close his eyes for a few minutes and they'd open on their own. Hard to get out of survival mode.

A few hours to sleep. The skiff was still holding together, but wasn't looking any more solid. 

He was the one that woke Malla. Good thing. She transformed as he touched her. Mouth open, she snapped at him with a maw full of jagged teeth. He just stared at her, not flinching away.

Her eyes flashed around a few times and then she changed back. "I am sorry."

A gasp from the front. The kid. Malla waking up must have woken her. She'd heard Malla's unique voice. She and Riddick both turned to see Jack leaning over the side of the chair looking at them.

"Wow, that was freaky." A smile was already forming on her face. "Where can I get a voice like that?"

Riddick grinned and even laughed a little. Kid had some guts. Malla smiled with him.

"Say something else," the kid encouraged.

Malla actually looked self-conscious. He knew she was around humans a lot, but he doubted she'd interacted with many, especially one so accepting as Jack.

"What would you have me say?"

The kid wiggled in her seat, still smiling, "That is cool. It gives me shivers."

Malla looked back at him helplessly. She'd made her eyes mimic a human's, and he realized he liked them the other way. They were strange, but they suited her.

"Kid, go dig out what supplies we have. See what's on this heap."

She was quick to obey, youthful energy evident in the way she hopped up and moved past them.

Riddick released Malla's restraints, easing them over her shoulder carefully. "This doesn't look like something from one of those beasts."

She looked past him to the girl and then leaned closer, "It was the merc."

He remembered hearing an odd sound after Johns had gone down. She'd been caught by one of the wild shotgun blasts. "You could have lost your fucking arm."

"I heal quickly, but I need to clean it."

He shook his head, aggravated. She'd avoided the beasts on the planet to get shot by a dying merc. It was a shitty irony.

A blanket on the floor at the back and he sent the kid back up front with the simple instruction to call him if anything stopped working for longer than thirty seconds. Malla was reluctant to lie down. Probably used to tending her own injuries like he was, but he could do it better and faster, and block the other's view of her.

Pouring on the antiseptic to wash away the coagulant and debris, Malla practically writhed in pain. She whimpered some, might have been too quiet for the others to hear.

Fresh blood flowed and he picked a couple visible chunks out. A pad of gauze to cover and it was all he could do. It would scar badly, if Chameels even got scars.

Malla lay completely still with her eyes squeezed shut.

"Okay?"

She shook her head slowly. "It feels like fire," she whispered.

He didn't know what to do for her. Not the consoling type, and he didn't see how that would help now anyway.

"Human Riddick." Her hand gripped his suddenly, squeezing hard. "I want to sleep, but…" She glanced past him to the other two. 

He nodded in understanding. She was saying she didn't trust them, but would trust him to keep her safe. He was capable, but what did that say about him for her to trust him so easily? Either way, he liked that she would.

"How deep you go?" He'd seen Malla asleep, but he guessed Chameels had something else. Given her age he assumed she could go into a period of near-hibernation, especially if she didn't sleep normally. She'd be left vulnerable, and was asking him to keep her safe.

She shook her head. Probably no way to explain it.

"I've got you now, but I can't say how long." There was no telling when they'd be picked up. If she was in some comatose state then, there wouldn't be shit he could do.

"I will come back if you call me."

He nodded and she spent a few seconds looking around, still nervous to be purposely making herself defenseless while visible. But then she closed her eyes and relaxed, breathing slowly out. It was a full thirty seconds before she drew another breath.

A day and a half they floated. He fired the engines a couple times to keep them on course. Fuel wasn't going to last long. So far all the systems had held, but they were still blinking on and off, and it was becoming more unpredictable.

Malla never moved. He checked on her a few times. He figured she could stay in that suspended state as long as she needed, or was able to.

The kid and the holy guy slept a lot. There were some nightmares. Holy man moaned a few times, but never said anything about it. The kid jerked awake regularly. She would always search him out and it was one of the reasons he didn't move from the pilot's seat. 

He dozed when they did, but for the most part stayed awake. Good habits were hard to break. He watched them. The holy man would come awake already moving his beads. The kid whimpered in her sleep a lot. Mostly he watched Malla.

Everything about her was alien to him. He liked her, and that was the biggest and weirdest thing. A sort of mutual respect was about as close as he'd gotten to liking anyone for… a long time. The kid didn't count. He couldn't find a reason to dislike any kid, that was until life had at them. Kids were clean. No sin, no hate, no fear. 

The irony of his affinity was that Malla was probably the most dangerous thing he'd ever come up against. He figured she was probably damn near perfect at killing, or could be.

Throw in his childhood enthusiasm and whatever that sexual tension was, and it left him wondering what came next. 

He'd never settled down into one place. Spent whole months at one place or another, but never had settled. Watching for the next chance to escape, the next hiding spot, the next trigger-happy merc. Jumping from place to place was just how he lived, never having one thing being constant.

Maybe it was just that old childhood wish affecting his thinking, but he could imagine Malla as a constant, something he wouldn't want changed.

Never get comfortable. Ironic that he was just thinking along those lines, cuz as if in response to his thinking the whole ship jolted.

No need to wake anyone. The kid fell out of her seat with a curse. Holy man grabbed hold just in time. Malla was rolled awake, the force leaving her lying on her side, eyes staring straight at him.


	8. Chapter 8

~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~

"What is it?" the kid asked as she climbed off the floor. Her voice already high with excitement, her eyes wide.

Malla stood slowly at the back. Her gaze was forward, either on him or the kid.

Holy man didn't look too excited yet but his grip on the bars of his seat caused his knuckles to shine white. "Praise Allah, we are rescued."

There were no communications with the other ship, and there wouldn't be. The skiff's radio was junk. It had been pure luck that he'd managed to get the distress beacon to work, and it hadn't for long.

Whatever had grabbed them was behind them, out of sight. There was a slim chance it was a salvage team. It was probably mercenaries. Convicts were more lucrative of a draw than floating debris. 

The jolt could have been tow line or tractor beam. Forward motion had stopped hard and sudden. But the slow draw backwards was unmistakable. Salvage teams didn't usually waste money on expensive technology like tractor beams. 

"Mercs."

Riddick stood and they all did.

"What do we do?"

The kid was starting to panic. With good reason. Bounty hunters weren't known as good Samaritans. They would get what they wanted and dump the rest in one way or another. They wanted him, the rest of them faced the possibility of being killed or sold off as slaves. There was a small chance they’d be taken to the next habitable stop.

Holy man stood tall, his look determined, but unable to hide his alarm. "We will bargain with them. I am an influential man. Allah has blessed me with enough to barter for our freedom."

Riddick stayed silent. It could work, but it would be a fucking miracle. The standard bounty hunter motto was ' _shoot first, ask questions later_ '. You were either a bounty or a witness, and witnesses were messy.

The skiff lost power, all its interior lights went out. Manual override precautions on the larger ship. Didn't want a tethered ship firing up when it got so close.

Tension spiked. The kid was fidgeting, shifting her weight. She looked more afraid than she had on that planet, and Riddick never saw her eyes leave him and Malla. She took a step, and Holy man put his arm around her. Wasn't sure if he was trying to corral the kid, protect her, or use her for support.

"We will go out," Holy man was saying again. "Perhaps we can find a peaceful agreement." 

Riddick couldn't help the way his body stiffened at those words. That meant selling him out to save themselves. On a dark and dangerous planet it had been easy to trust a killer. Out here, the story was different. Hard to support a criminal when there were law-abiding citizens around.

"I want to stay with Riddick," the kid said, though her voice was weak. She knew she wasn't a player now, but was trying to be heard at least.

Holy man held her tight, using both arms now. "No, child. It is better if we depart together."

The light grew brighter. They were inside the ship's docking bay. Already the doors were closing, cutting off the view of space, and freedom.

Malla had stayed back through the whole discussion. He knew she had nothing to add, and wouldn't consider the outcome to affect her. But she was on this skiff and that left her as screwed as the rest of them. Finally she moved, looking almost casual, if she wasn't one of four people on the ship. 

She stood beside him, her expression never changing from the hard look she'd gotten when he'd said that first word. But her position spoke for her. She was choosing to stand with him.

Contact on the hull. Clamps would have risen to support the lifeless skiff, unable to put its own landing gear down. Then the main doors of the hangar closed with a thunderous finality. It would take a few seconds for the bay to pressurize and they'd have company.

Holy man moved towards the hatch, nearly dragging the kid with him. She looked back over his arm, but wasn't really struggling to get away.

Riddick moved too, urging Malla with him. To the side, behind the edge of a wall. It was out of sight of the door, and it was also out of the direct line of fire. He didn't have a plan for escape, but he sure as hell wasn't about to walk unarmed down that ramp.

Malla tensed, feeling like her body hardened where it was pressed to his. He'd heard what she had, or more like felt it. Running feet. No way to tell exactly how many, but there was enough to make a trace vibration.

The kid was looking back at him. Riddick couldn't predict the future, but he couldn't see how this was going to go well for any of them. Bad place for a kid. He turned up the edge of his lip and smiled at her. Made him feel worse when her eyes lit up and she smiled back. 

Holy man turned the button for the hatch release. Malla pulled back on him at the same time, pressing them as close into the corner as they could get.

Like a held breath. Riddick was surprised that they waited as long as they did. The ramp touched down. No one spoke, but he knew the opening was surrounded. 

Imam opened his mouth, started to speak. His shadow moved as he raised his hand and took a step forward. It worked as a cue. They opened fire.

A hail of old-fashioned gunfire cut through Jack and Imam. Stronger firepower would pierce the hull, but it worked its purpose on flesh.

Assault lasted just a few seconds. Maybe less than a hundred rounds fired. No more were needed. No way to avoid that many bullets. They ricocheted inside the skiff. The lights overhead shattered, sending down a shower of sparks and glass. Electronics fizzled, hoses broke loose to snake through the air, there was no safe place.

Riddick took a bullet through the arm. He thought they all missed Malla, almost behind him in the small space. A hose tore away from the ceiling, twisting erratically as the steam dispelled. It caught her low before she grabbed it, holding it down until it was silent. 

Mercs had to wait for the bullets to stop flying. Words exchanged. Sounded like a couple of them had taken some of their own bullets. Hazard, and reward. Didn't sound like any had been killed. 

But the others would come.

Malla jerked him back, pressing him against the wall and herself to his chest. "Trust me, Human Riddick." Her voice was low but intense.

He didn't have a choice. She could have gone invisible right then and walked out, safe away from him. 

Had to wonder what the hell she was up to when she dropped her mouth to the new wound in his arm. Not a great time for a snack, and it _fucking hurt_.

She licked up to the hole and then fit her mouth over it. Hard suction made him wince as she drew on the blood coming from the bullet hole. Felt like she was tonguing him. Just seconds, and she raised her head, now messy with his blood.

"We must be silent, and fast. The link is made, but if you let go of me I cannot help you." That said, she started to go invisible, and he literally felt a sharp shrinking sensation somewhere in his chest. He liked that she'd chosen to stand with him, but it had been stupid for her to not disappear, even from him. Safer away. He couldn't blame her.

She gripped his hands _hard_. Riddick looked down at her hands in his, even though he couldn't see them. Weird to see. He saw his own hand go transparent and blinked in surprise.

His hands went first, then his arms, slowly disappearing. His whole body gradually went. Looking down, he couldn't see himself. She'd used her chameleon trick on him? Fucking incredible.

He wanted to put his hand in front of his face to see if he could see it, but Malla was holding on tight. "I cannot conceal you for long. Move with me. Be silent."

She tugged at him and he followed.

In full view of the dozen mercs that were regrouping and edging toward the ramp, guns raised. Malla's hand tightened as she moved forward. Step around and over the two bodies, careful not to get in the blood. Don’t look at the kid’s staring eyes.

They weren't going to make it. The first merc was already on the ramp. 

Malla tugged his arm, but he couldn't see her. Which way would she go? Straight down past them?

She did the unexpected. She urged him down through the gap below the hydraulic. He was a big guy and that was a little hole. Hard to move fast and be silent, 'specially when she used his weight to pull herself through. He heard her, so close, a small gasp of breath just as she stopped tugging and bumped into him. She'd managed to get through just as a boot stepped where she would have been.

He grinned and knew no one could see.

Beneath the skiff's wing to the main hull, big hangar. Along the wall. Malla moved fast, making it a challenge to stay silent. Around until they were behind other ships, cutting off the direct view. No time for a breather. She pulled him forward. 

Through a portal to the main part of the ship. More mercs coming, four of them. 

Riddick held his breath as Malla stopped and directed him to stand against the wall. He'd say it again, she was hardcore. Armed mercs walking double. It would be a miracle if they didn't trip over them standing along the wall.

Malla was smaller. They missed her, but the last guy's arm brushed against Riddick's chest. Just a second of contact, but the merc jerked around. 

"What the fuck?"

Riddick was grinning, and not from where the merc was staring at. As soon as they'd passed Malla had yanked him away. A connecting corridor on the opposite side. They'd crossed and gotten out of view before the guy had even turned.

Malla's grip wasn't as tight now. Through corridors, down stairs, moving a little slower now. She was looking for something.

Mess hall. No one around when they entered. Through to the kitchen. Closed the door between them and the dining area and Malla released him.

Riddick had watched himself fade to invisible, but reappearing wasn't the same. Without her touch he _snapped_ back to visible. "That was fucking cool." He couldn't help grinning. It had been a fantasy realized, and he couldn't think of a better time to use it.

Malla smiled, but she looked exhausted, her head even bowed like it was too hard to hold it up.

"What's that take from you?"

A slow blink. Was she going to pass out right there? "I have not used mimic on another for a long time." She grinned and licked her teeth, even though all the blood was gone. "An exchange of fluids, necessary and tasty."

Riddick grinned, the thrill of escape and the continuously suppressed aching in his groin making him think of a few other fluids he'd like to exchange, "Always liked it too."


	9. Chapter 9

~~K~~K~~K~~K~~K~~K~~K~~K~~K~~

"What do you mean he's not there?!"

The younger man who'd had the misfortune of being the one to bear the news to Kamyon stood still and expressionless. There was nothing he could do to change the facts. He would know that showing attitude or fear would only fuel Kam's rage.

Kam turned away and crossed his arms, standing perfectly still as he watched pairs of men remove the bodies of the two castaways that had been killed. One of them was just a kid. Clean face, shaved head, couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen.

"Who the fuck gave the order to fire?"

The messenger, Pete, no fucking less, looked away from him to the group that was still gathered around the antique life raft. He didn't speak, but _not_ speaking was enough. Only one other person these fools would be stupid enough to listen to anyway.

Soren was his venture-partner, and near constant antagonist and adversary. The ruthless son-uva-bitch was the textbook definition of the reason most people thought mercs were cruel and immoral. The kind of guy that would shoot a kid for a payday. Unfortunately he was also co-captain of the ship, answerable to no one.

The group came closer only after they saw that Kam wasn't screaming obscenities. Their courage was in their numbers, and standing with the only person that Kam couldn't straight out fire or kill.

"What'cha thinkin'?" Soren asked.

And there it was. Most of them loathed him enough to rip his heart out and eat it before he'd finished dying, but when the chips fell, they knew where to go. Kam wasn't just the brain of the operation. He was the authority. 

Didn't stay top dog long by giving away the battle strategy. "Get the scanners. Check the ship and this whole bay. He was on that boat. Prove it."

In a hard and corrupt world he had the technology and manpower to find anything. Richard B. Riddick's thermal signature had been on that raft when they'd discovered it drifting. He hadn't jumped ship, so where had he gone?

Kam left them to it and went back to the bridge. He reviewed the first scans of the raft. There was no doubting it, one of the four life forms had given a heat signature identical to the one on Riddick's criminal file. Not perfect evidence, but hard to dispute. The raft had never left their sight or their gravity field, but when it was opened up there were only the two, not four, and thanks to Soren neither one of those was available for questioning.

"Give me the thermal images of the bay from this entire time."

It only took seconds to find what he'd been searching for. A smile split his face as he sat forward and watched the feed again. 

Minutes later with the boarding team assembled he played the feed again, watching their reactions. The look on Soren's face was priceless. When they caught Riddick Kam intended to shake the man's hand for making the other merc look so stupid.

"Would you like to explain this to me." 

Soren was turning red, "They had to have a cloaking device."

Kam raised a brow, "What personal cloaking device would let them pass within inches of _you_ without being seen? You nearly tripped over the guy!"

A humph of sound, but there was nothing else to say. The thermal images didn't lie. 

"They're on the ship."

That brought heads up, as if the dumbasses hadn't connected two and two. 

"Pair up. Report every ten. Use the scanners. Send out the bots. Richard Riddick is a killer. He was Johns' capture, which means Johns is dead at his hand. Which of you wants to be next?"

There were no volunteers. 

~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~

The mess hall.

Whenever Riddick had stowed away on a ship he'd gone for the cargo bay. Easy to get to, easy to get out of. Not always comfy.

Malla had searched out the mess hall and the genius of it made him feel fucking stupid. It could be hard to get in undetected, but otherwise it was the perfect spot. Kitchen was usually kept warm. Any crewies were busy when they were in there, and not very attentive. Ready supply of food, water, and medical supplies. Find a good hiding hole and a person could hide out indefinitely.

They found a good spot behind the venting hoods for the hotter appliances. Where the rest of the ceiling barely had enough room to crawl above it, the alcove let them sit up. 

Sporting new wounds and old ones, but they weren't complaining. Malla's steam burn blistered, but she treated it with medicine confiscated from the first-aid cabinet and didn't mention it again. She healed fast. The shotgun wound to her shoulder was almost fully healed up, just in the two days on the skiff.

The binding over the cut in Riddick's leg was peeling up. Sore, but healing. The new bullet wound had bled some more. It would have been worse except for what Malla had done. Sucking on the wound had cleaned it as soon as he'd gotten it. Still an open wound, but there was no sign of infection.

Still no alarms sounding after a few hours. Riddick doubted they'd get much of a rest. An operation like this wouldn't be fooled by a game of hide and seek. 

Cooks made a meal, the morning one. Ovens on with food cooking for later, and all the crewies left the kitchen.

Their alcove got hot fast. Riddick pulled his shirt off when the sweat started running. Malla was just as sweaty as he was, her hair sticking to her head, her skin looking flushed. Wasn't like she could take off clothes though, he thought with a grin.

"I humor you?"

The suction of the vents allowed them to speak almost normally with little risk of being heard. "Yeah, was thinkin' you should get naked."

A crinkle of a frown, "You humans think about sex very often."

The smile stayed, he couldn't resist. Her views were so distorted. "It's a good way to pass the time."

Now she smiled, "Thinking of it or participating in the act?"

Riddick was laid full out on his back, hand tucked behind his head, and this conversation was starting to have an effect. He dropped his hand and adjusted the growing problem. "Whichever's available."

She was staring at him thoughtfully and openly watched him adjust himself. "I did enjoy what passed between us in the village. Is that how it feels?"

"If you're built like a human that's just the start. You a virgin, Malla?"

She smiled and got on her hands and knees to come closer. "Not a virgin, but it has been many years since I have copulated with another."

Riddick was on his knees and stripping clothes the second she moved. "Let's remind you."

"You are an impressive human specimen," she whispered, her gaze leaving his face to travel down his body. "So many of you appear dirty." Her focus remained on his dick once he'd uncovered it.

He didn't comment on that. Last shower he'd had was the soaking rain back on the planet. Before that it had been a week or two since he'd had a good scrub, so he was probably not as clean as all that. Wasn't going to argue though.

Hand on him, down his chest, slipping through the sweat wetting his skin, cooler than him. "I would like to share this activity with you."

He smiled, turning onto his knees, "I'd lose the clothes."

On their knees facing and she changed, reforming into smooth flesh as dark as his. High breasts, flat stomach and shapely hips and thighs. Her injuries showed more now, not discolored, but as blemishes in the skin. She'd forgotten a belly button. That made him smile, and then he considered that she could make her tits bigger if he wanted and he grinned.

Shouldn't've.

The expression gazing up at him was simply curious, "Is this acceptable? Would you prefer a male form?"

Lips on hers and she responded to that. Just a taste, "Stick to female this time, and that's perfect."

She pulled back, eyes quickly scanning him, seeing clearly in the low light he knew. Reshape, her breasts did get bigger, so did her biceps, while her waist thinned and a belly button appeared.

"Stop." Hands gripped and he kissed her again, urging her back. She tensed, instinctively resisting the force and he stopped, sitting back.

Still that open curiosity, not apologizing. 

Instead of taking it to her, he pulled her forward. Malla's grin was both pleased and feral for the second before she lifted her face to his. 

On his knees, sitting on his own feet. Mouths devouring, bodies heating even more, they were both slick with sweat. 

He urged her up and she gripped his shoulders. Got her feet down, she moved onto him, straddling him. His hands on her hips guided, but she had the control. 

Thrust up, pull down. Hot and wet, he forced his way into her tight heat. Malla's head fell back, hair sticking, her low moan becoming a growl, echoing him. His mouth on her throat felt the vibration from inside her.

All the way down and they stilled. Slowly her head lifted to look at him. Her eyes were solid black, the iris taking over. They flashed at him before she bared her teeth and growled again.

He grinned, "Remembering?"

Hands gripped his shoulders _tight_ , she leaned back to the limit of her reach, her body agile and undulating as she pressed her hips down on him. "I have never copulated with a human." Not the complaining tone she'd used in the settlement, just stating a fact, and one that she might just find interesting.

So he had to represent mankind, huh? Always up for a challenge, and he didn't want her wishing she hadn't bothered.

Didn't have to persuade much. He urged her into motion on him and she took over. Using her feet and him as leverage she rode him, grunts and growls timing with her pounding rhythm. After just seconds he let her go, any aid from him seemed to frustrate her.

He leaned back on his arms giving her more of an angle, and she worked all the harder. 

Couldn't keep that up for long. She was panting, her breathing coming out as harsh snarls through bared teeth. He was just thankful she hadn't started biting. But she was slowing down.

Lift up, her weight too, and his arms held her still, his mouth taking hers. She moaned into him, the top half of her body still, but her ass wiggled on him. Tongue stabbing, teeth snapping at his tongue, she was carnal and almost frantic, her moans turning to whimpers when her twisting wasn't getting her what she wanted.

Down with her, she didn't resist him now, her need too strong.

Refusing to release his mouth, she held tight, even when she was on her back. Showing her strength when she arched under him, lifting him some. Didn't have to urge her legs up, she was wrapped around him and he simply flexed.

A gasp, the new angle reaching deeper. She stilled, mouth and body, eyes opening sightlessly.

Pinning her, he flexed again, forcing himself deep and she didn't moan, but wailed. "Oh, please, again. Harder."

He thought he would be hurting her if she wasn't so hot for it. He ground in, barely stroking out before slamming back in. She urged him faster, bucking beneath him, crying out when it was good enough.

He didn't have much control left. Tight and on fire, he was surprised he'd made it this long, but she wordlessly begged for more. Had to wonder if he _could_ satisfy a creature with such animal needs.

Hardened his resolve. Wasn't going to fail.

Sweat dripping, muscles bulging from effort. He could do this. 

She was practically contorting beneath him, forcing herself towards him, low wailing moans when he hammered into her. 

Last effort, he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, his teeth sinking into her neck with a growl.

She continued to moan for the space of one second and then exploded. Thought they couldn't get much more wet, but the hard rhythm splashed their combined fluids, spattering stomach, arms, chest, he even felt some hit his chin as she went completely relaxed beneath him.

Still breathing heavily he slid off of her and watched her curl onto her side. He was half expecting her thumb to go in her mouth when she wrapped an arm around her bent knees.

Exercise cleansed him, and this had been exercise. He felt good, changed even, his head clear, his body stronger from the exertion. By all definitions it had been an accomplishment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had an ongoing debate with myself. If Malla isn't human, and can, and DOES, take the form of animals. Is Riddick having sex with her technically beastiality? And then let's take that one step further. If it ISN'T beastiality (which we want to think it isn't, don't we?) could she be in the form of an animal when they have sex and then would THAT make it beastiality? 
> 
> In the end, it is what it is and doesn't really matter, but my head churns up the question occasionally to ponder. 
> 
> It should be noted that I don't EVER have Malla, or any Chameel, be in an animal form during a sex act. While the question fascinates me, I wouldn't want to actually WRITE it. Egads!


	10. Chapter 10

~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~

Riddick climbed down out of hiding to get some things. Towels and water, more food, and he inspected the knives. No good material, but it was a blade. He took one that he figured wouldn't be missed.

Back up, he cleaned himself, watching Malla sleep. 

She amazed him. Strong _and_ soft. He'd never seen the combination, had figured one couldn't be had with the other. But Malla had proven to maintain both. She wasn't cruel, but he'd seen her capabilities. She wasn't weak, but she'd readily acted the submissive with him. Was it an act? A fine balance to survive? Or was it just who she was? He had a curiosity to learn more about her, but realized he didn't care which it was. She was a Chameel, that seemed to be enough of an answer.

Knowledge of her past and an abused child's fascination, were the reasons for his interest. But as he watched her sleeping, the sheen of moisture on her body slowly drying, he had to admit this was more than simple interest. 

Hard position to be in.

The cool water woke her when he slopped the wet rag on her hip. She stretched with a smile, turning onto her back, causing the rag to travel so the water was dripping down between her legs. Her smile widened and she growled softly as she reached for him.

Soft again, the animal gone, she kissed him, lapping at him. "Mmm, I like remembering with you."

He grinned, letting the rag trail upward, watching her smile fade in reaction as the coolness reached her breast. "A new memory."

She moaned, her eyes rolling as she took the rag from him. "I must finish this or we shall face a repeat."

Riddick couldn't say if he was ready for a repeat so quick. He let her clean up, refusing to smile as he watched her change forms to aid her cleaning. Surprised she just didn't lick herself clean.

"I enjoy the water," she said softly as she ran the rag down her legs, the last to clean. "I prefer it to archaic tongue baths."

Wasn't going to say anything. That he'd just been thinking that… 

She was short enough to stand bent over, and was just finishing washing, still bent over, when her head snapped up, eyes intent. He saw her reaction just in passing as his head turned to a new sound.

Still wet, but she transformed and moved carefully to the crack they'd been watching through. He moved with her, both perfectly silent.

Nothing at first, then a whisper of movement, gray on gray, almost overlooked. 

He'd thought this merc team was well-funded, but this was beyond. This was connections. Experimental technology, a robot no bigger than a small dog, fast, silent, and armed. From what he knew of them they could be sent out to search and immobilize, or eliminate. With militia-grade weapons and search devices, they'd outsource mercs soon.

Against her ear, so close he felt her shiver when he whispered, "Mech-hound."

They watched it do a sweep of the kitchen, stopping longer in some places. What could it detect? Heat? Carbon dioxide? Pheromones? Whatever, it finally left the kitchen.

"What do we do?" Malla whispered, still watching the point where it had disappeared.

He didn't have to tell her the truth. They were fucked. Robo-dog wasn't going to find any traces anywhere else. It would be back. No way they could hide for much longer. Her choice for convenience had worked for them, the heat and vents keeping the mech-hound from discovering they were hiding right above it. 

"Need to get off this boat."

She turned slowly to stare at him and didn't have to say the words. It would be running a gauntlet to try to get back to the docking bay, much less find and commandeer a ship that was already prepped for take-off. 

"Cannot play the same trick."

He just shook his head once. This ship would have surveillance throughout, stupid to think it wasn't equipped to pick up heat signatures. Maybe not in some of the crew passageways, but especially around the docking bay, they'd be easy targets now, visible or not.

"What about the lights?"

The same shake of his head. They'd either have to get to the bridge to cut all the lights, or go deeper into the ship. Both would be guarded and there'd be an emergency power source anyway. No way to get to both.

Wide eyes looked up at him as the reality of the situation sank in. "What will they do to me?"

They’d try to escape, and it would fail. Even if they killed a few, they’d be captured. There wasn't shit he could do. He'd been helpless in custody before, and was about to face it again. Wasn't sure Malla had what it took to survive it, but then again, her whole life had been a sort of prison.

“Stay here? Hide?”

She smiled, “That would only buy some time.”

They just looked at each other. He didn't speak and she slowly nodded, her expression hardening. 

Down to the kitchen. Riddick watched Malla transform in midair, landing on all fours as a lion once again. Lean through the body, she lifted that huge head to look at him and snarled, huge fangs designed for one purpose. Guess she wouldn't need one of the blades.

"Let's do this." The voice was hers, coming from the mouth of a beast. He got hard.

Through the corridors, he had to jog to keep up with Malla. Black panels along the ceiling, inconspicuous. Turn a corner and he stopped and looked back. Yep, they were fucked, and being driven, or at least corralled. Hidden doors slid out, closing passageways as they went. No way back.

"Malla."

She had paused and now looked back. A low growl was her only response.

Forward, slower now. They were walking into a trap.

The hangar was just up ahead. Still no one to stop them. 

Came around the last corner to face a sealed door. Malla roared. 

They looked back just in time to see the doors behind them seal shut. Trapped. He'd known it was coming, but didn't make it easier to accept.

Static from above then a voice, "I am impressed, Mr. Riddick. A treasure lost on my own ship. You have been a rewarding challenge." 

"Come down here and face me, we'll see if you're still impressed."

"I'm afraid your reputation speaks for you, though I'm surprised you're running with a pet."

The 'pet' roared at the speaker, muscles bunching, tail flicking slowly, she was ready to kill.

"He's huggable. Come try."

A laugh, then an audible click lower, within the wall. "I look forward to meeting you face to face, Mr. Riddick." A thin smoke began to fill the corridor, lighter than the air, it rose.

"So do I," he growled. 

Malla stilled and lifted her head to look at him. Then she very deliberately went down to her belly and lowered her head. He followed suit, though he laid on his back, a blade very nearly in each of his hands.

Almost a five minutes wait before a door opened. Boots moving. Door closed.

Riddick had the luxury of being able to watch. His goggles hid his eyes completely.

Six men, all wearing masks. So the gas was still a threat. The breath he'd taken would hold for at least another minute.

Two stayed at the door, rifles aimed. Dart guns. Interesting. Wanted them alive.

Four men moved forward, pairing off for each of them, tasers and cuffs out.

A boot to his hip, kicking, hard. No response.

The two moving toward Malla weren't as cautious. Guess they figured an animal wasn't capable of playing dead.

"A fucking lion. Who ever heard of a lion in space?"

"Damn thing's huge," the other one said. "Surprised it didn't rip his throat out."

"How we supposed to cuff it?"

Riddick waited. Couldn't say for sure when Malla was going to act, but they had to do it together or they'd lose the edge.

When she moved it was just a blur of fur. The two over him reacted to the sound of her roar, jerking away from her and towards him.

Malla swiped with one paw, catching the one guy in the leg. Ripped through enough flesh to cripple him. Then she launched herself for the second, going for his throat.

Riddick moved silent, taking advantage of the chaos. The shout of warning from the man at the door came too late. A blade sank in, once, twice, dropping him. 

The second guy was frozen, unable to register the change in events. Riddick was on him. Had to grip the blood-soaked knife tighter. In under his ribs. The blade snapped. Blood foamed and flew from his mouth, spraying Riddick's face.

A shot from the guy at the door hit his buddy. Overkill. He wouldn't be feeling that.

Throw the knife. Wasn't meant for it, but it did the job. Sank halfway up the hilt just below his adam's apple.

Malla roared. Blood dripped from those impressive fangs. The guy's throat beneath her ripped away.

Riddick inhaled, unable not to. The effects of the gas were almost immediate. He staggered.

Shots. One, two, they hit her in the side. A look to him, then at the culprit. Fucker practically dropped the weapon he was shaking so bad.

One step, two, towards her, and Riddick dropped. Blade in the chest ended the guy she'd slashed. The gun he'd been lifting to aim at Malla dropped, harmless.

Silence, 'cept for whimpering from the man at the door.

Malla leaped, but he was firing. Looked like he got her again. The real problem was the two darts that stabbed dead center in Riddick's chest. Injection darts.

Malla landed, probably killing the guy on impact. She ripped the side of his neck out anyway. Already he could see she was moving slower. She coughed. Her head came up, but her growl turned soft, almost a whine.

He stepped toward her. Floor tilted and he found himself on his knees. Struggle up. Lungs burning. Vision blurring. Skull shrinking painfully around his brain. Limbs so heavy.

Couldn't even try to stop the fall. Was conscious when he hit the floor anyway.

Blackness.


	11. Chapter 11

~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~

Last thing was blackness. First thing was blackness. No surprise there.

Ignore the body. Listen.

Sounds around him. The steady hum and hiss of life support. He could feel the cuff on his arm, but there was more. Had to be at least ten or twelve of the systems working. So he wasn't the only bounty on ice. Ship this big would run till it filled, storing the bounties for a good haul. Had seen it before, but had never been stupid or unlucky enough to get picked up as part of the cash crop.

Scents were normal. Antiseptics and bottled air. He figured he was the only bounty still awake. The rest were iced for the ride. Probably wasn't good that he wasn't too.

No Malla. Her smell was in him now, but he couldn't find any trace otherwise. Had they put her down?

Had all the information he could get. Time to focus on the body. 

Arms up and out. Classic restraint system for long hauls. Kept the arm exposed for the life support cuff. Mouth dry, they'd had him on the juice for a while. Sustenance in, waste out, till it was time for the drugs. He was dressed. That was a good sign. Lot of mercs thought it was fun to strip the bounties. Muscles were aching from the long-held position, but physically he was sound. Even had a bit of slack in the chains so he could stretch.

Blindfold, not goggles. Explained the darkness.

A few hours wait before he got a visitor. Purposeful movement, right to him. Tugged the blindfold off.

"I believe the lights are low enough for you."

Riddick lifted his head. Merc sat across from him, in one of the seats meant for a bounty. Had to be the captain. His confidence spoke of familiarity, and possession. No fear.

"I'm Kamyon." 

Riddick looked around the room. Narrow, no more than four meters. Only the one empty seat of twelve. Ten men strapped up like he was, 'cept they were all out cold.

"You and your pet made for an interesting capture. You took out five of my best men. I wanted to meet you face to face."

Riddick remembered seeing six die. His raised brow made the merc-captain smile. "Yeah, between the two of you there were six deaths. But I don't consider Soren a huge loss." That smile widened, "You actually did me a favor there."

Kamyon just stared at him. After a few seconds he started tapping his foot, his look now wavering. "Got nothing to say?"

"Where we headed?"

A slow nod, "Changed course once you were in chains." 

Riddick didn't need to hear him say it. Only pen paying enough to change course for was Halcyon Charn. The merc-captain said it anyway.

"And the cat?"

The smile stayed, but the look changed. Merc studied him, watching for a reaction. "In a cage for now."

Riddick didn't think the merc was yanking his chain on that. Malla's disguise had held. How long it would was a gamble. With her luck though, they'd stop off at a game preserve and free her. Fate did smile on some.

"I want to give you a token of my gratitude."

No comment on that. Riddick had never gotten a gratuity that had worked out for him.

The Captain stood and studied his hands for a second before speaking again. "You might not consider it a blessing, but I'm going through a lot of trouble for it so someone out there thinks you don't deserve it."

Get to the point.

"I find myself in an interesting position." He rubbed his hands together before he looked up again. "I hold the contract for an experiment. No stipulations given. I can use the first con I capture that fits the bill." He waited an appropriate amount of time to build the suspense. "You fit the bill." Rubbing his hands together again. "Advocates are trying to stop it." He shook his head, the gleam of humor in his eye. "But I hold the contract. Lot at stake."

Riddick wondered if he tried to argue, either for or against, if it would do any good. Probably not. Didn't want to be the rat in another lab. But something he didn't deserve? Sounded like it might be good for him.

Captain nodded at the dark panel over them. Soup in the tube feeding into Riddick's arm changed colors and he felt it immediately. Fight it, just because. Slow blink at the merc-captain, whose smile was too pleased for Riddick's comfort.

Blackness.

~~M~~M~~M~~M~~M~~M~~M~~M~~M~~

One. Two. Three. Back. One. Two. Three. Repeat.

Not bars, but a thick clear poly-something. Holes to let in air. Two meters cubed.

Small places were not a problem to her. Even inactivity was not. Her form was acceptable. Many times she had suffered a sort of curb on her freedom. So it was not even that. 

It was _him_.

The human had benefited her tricks to survive. He had aided her, but it had been her that had assured their survival. Having sex with him had been memorable, he had been correct about that. In the fight with the bounty hunters he had killed four while she finished off only two. Not significant, but a worthwhile detail. 

The black glass that covered his eyes was soulless. No emotion conveyed. A useful tool for the human. But she had seen how it was incomplete.

Trapped, suffocating, doomed. He had tried to reach her, tried to take that one more step. His purpose, futile, impossible. His expression was the major factor. She had seen distress there, anger, determination, but mostly regret. He knew it had to be that he was captured, but he had not wanted her to be. 

The most feared criminal in a dozen systems was a human that would sacrifice for another?

A cage for her, but what for him? From the way she had witnessed humans treat one another, he was fated for terrible things. And there was nothing she could do from inside this glass box.

~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~R~~

Wake to blackness again. Not the same. Lot had changed.

New room. New chains. New position. New pain.

Room was warm. Wasn't usually climate control for bounties. Smaller room. The only hissing sound of life support his own. Cuff was in the same place, but his position had changed. Hands together, arms down, held to the floor between his legs. Head down, resting on a support. That was different, and strange.

He lifted his head, and immediately dropped it back on the cooled cushions. Pain. His head was splitting in two, the movement causing a wave of nausea to roil through him. The support was two cooled pads designed to let him rest his head. Interesting.

Water. He could smell it. Move a little, not wanting to. The pain was… heavy. Water. A straw he could easily get to and he drank. Ice cold. Wet his throat and belly, stilling the nausea.

Don't ignore the pain. Study it. Soreness in his face, like he'd gotten two black eyes. And deeper, inside his skull. It was his eyes, but not just his eyes. Stabbing pains when he tried to move them. Couldn't open them either, but not swelled. Coolness gave him some relief.

_"You'll never see daylight again."_

Hard not to think about that time.

They had said it repeatedly starting out. When he was just sixteen and had killed in prison the first time. Empty threats. A few years tacked on an endless sentence and a few days in the hole. Sunlight did hurt when he came out, but it was still there.

New prison when he was caught after that first escape. Triple max. Butcher Bay had no sun. It was there that he got the shine job.

That pain had been something like this. Doc Joe had given him a cup of slam tea, nothing but hot dirty water, and a rag to stuff in his mouth. One warning, _"Ya make noise they's gonna know right where we is."_ No cool support then. He'd lain on the dirty floor, pressing his face to the cooler surface, swallowing his own bile and smelling his own stink.

Irony of getting a shine job to see in the dark was that everything became light. All purples and pinks with darks and lights. Color blind. Points of light marking warm or bright spots. That was in the dark. Light blinded, invasive and painful.

All different kinds of pain. But now he was comfortable. Not a common statement. Pain made him want to sleep. 

Hard to count the hours. Long time. A day or more. Sleep a lot. Not much else to do.

Second day? He woke up to change. Cuff was moved some. Must've drugged him while he slept. Easier to move his eyes now. Stitches removed? Less pain. Soreness now. Healing.

Riddick knew some simple anatomy. He could name the parts of the eye and their purpose, but not what exactly had been done to his to make it possible to see in the dark. And he didn't think it was just him that was ignorant about it. A hatchet doc had figured out that slicing into an eye caused it to see in the dark. The why of it couldn't be explained. It also made the 'operation' risky and never exactly the same. Even his eyes weren't the same, one of them could see detail better than the other.

Riddick knew some simple math too. Merc-captain wanted a con that ‘fit the bill’. Shined eyes. And something that there were advocates against. Figured whatever they'd done was to make him see better. An experiment that could eventually help others with botched shine jobs see again?

Wake to change again. Cuff moved again. Blindfold and padding underneath gone. Could open his eyes. Felt sore, bruised even. Still couldn't see though.

Support still there, now covered. A cloth that was both soft and rough. Eyes were watery and itchy, convenient cloth.

Sound. Door opening. Lifted his head, but he couldn't see. Now he knew for sure they'd screwed something up. Had they made him blind? Nice fuckin' experiment.

"How are you feeling, Riddick?"

Didn't answer. Captain would get around to the point.

"You must realize that something has happened to your eyes. An experiment in restoring sight. The surgeons say it looks like a success."

"Can't see."

"Yeah… You have black lenses over your eyes until I could speak to you. Striking really."

Riddick could feel water run from his irritated eyes. Must look like he was crying. Couldn't wipe it away. Wouldn't drop his head to the cloth. Burning. He closed them and felt more tears flow.

Movement and a cloth to his face, an unasked for and unwanted gesture. He couldn't contain the low growl.

"This is why I came. To see if you were ready. Two more days? Blindfold back. Those black things can't be comfortable."

Ready for what?

"Don't think you'll give us the normal 'which is better' eye-test. I have something else in mind." 

Movement away. Door opened before merc-captain got there. Someone else there, waiting.

"Put him out. Get rid of those lenses and put the blindfold back on him. I want--"

"The drainage?" an older voice interrupted.

A moment of silence. Merc-captain didn't like being interrupted. "He'll survive. Change it often. Want him ready by dawn in three days. Heal him up."


End file.
